He stared at her with narrowed eyes, as if weighing her words for an ulterior motive in sending him off. The downside to having been a couple. He knew her well.
Finally, he turned his attention to spreading berry jam on a thick slice of toast. “She’s a good daughter-in-law to do that for Jeannie.”
“They all appear to be close. There aren’t as many Mikkelsons as there are Steeles, but they’re working hard to pull equal hours.” She tapped her fingers on the coffee mug.
“You sound...skeptical.” Tearing off an edge of toast, he popped it into his mouth, then chewed thoughtfully.
His eyes met hers in that direct way of his that made her feel she had his full and undivided attention. A heady sensation out of bed as well as in. His tousled bed head made her fingers ache to smooth through the strands of hair, to touch him.
She looked at him over her cup of decaf java. “It’s hard to trust them after so many years being mortal enemies. I cut my teeth on tales of how Mikkelsons ate kids for dinner.”
“I can’t envision your dad saying that to his children.” Royce bit into the toast, his eyes skating to the nursery.
Her heart tugged at the thought of how much it would hurt him to tell the girls goodbye. But what was she supposed to do? “My brother said so. He seemed wise and ancient then. Sounds silly now, but the foundation for distrust was laid.”
Royce set down the last bite of his toast slowly, deliberately. “Do you still question the Mikkelsons’ ethics?”
His voice was steady, but genuine concern trickled through.
The very idea made her gut clench, especially with Royce’s research on the line...
Could Chuck have an ulterior motive in stating the financials didn’t work? But the numbers were the numbers. Unless he’d found a way to turn investors.
She hated having to think this way. But years as a corporate lawyer meant she had to.
She drew a breath. “I wouldn’t go that far without proof. More like I question their loyalty, because I know my family will always come first for me. Why wouldn’t they feel the same?”
“You seemed to have resolved that before.”
“It was easier to try to believe all would be well in the beginning. And then Dad was in the horse riding accident and business affairs were the last thing on our minds. Now, when it’s getting to crunch time with the final stages of the merger...it’s just tougher.” Naomi’s nerves churned again. Protecting the family, her family, informed every decision she’d ever made. With two daughters of her own to consider, her resolve doubled.
“What choices do you have?” Royce leaned forward, palms splayed. She could reach out and touch him, like old times. Naomi wanted to feel the strength and warmth of the scientist’s fingertips. But that would only make things even more complicated. Blurry as a snowstorm. Perhaps just as dangerous, too.
Instead, she gripped her decaf tighter. “Not many. I’m keeping my eyes open, checking and double-checking documents...”
Royce nodded, his dark eyes registering more and more. “The reason you keep insisting on working.”
“Yes.” Talking to him was such an easy habit to fall into again. Only three weeks and she was already weakening. “And I’m watching the other side.”
“You think Shana may not be as guarded.”
It had crossed her mind. God, he read her so well. “Either way, we have to plan the party. We’re related by in-law something. It’s worth talking to her.”
“All right, then.” Palms on the table, he stood, pausing, then nodding. “I’ll make a plate for myself and gratefully hide out in the study to work. Text if you need me.”
He skimmed a hand across her shoulder, the casual touch intimate in its own way. Her breath hitched and she couldn’t keep from watching how he moved, loading up with breakfast, his strides to the elevator even, heavy. She wanted to call him back, to share breakfast, to hold his hand and even flirt as if they didn’t have a past. As if they’d just met.
The elevator doors slid open, and Royce gestured for Shana to enter the suite before he disappeared from view.
Shana clutched a three-ring binder and a tablet, walking closer. “I can come back later if I was interrupting...”
“No, please,” Naomi said, smoothing her loose tunic and leggings. “Royce has work to do. The girls are asleep. The timing is perfect. Join me for some breakfast while we go over the plans?”
Shana half turned, the bell sleeves of her dress swishing. “Sure, if you’re absolutely certain you wouldn’t just rather relax with—”
Sighing, Naomi rolled her eyes. “Is it that obvious to everyone how...”
“Confused you’re feeling?” Shana sat at the table, setting the binder and tablet aside. “Not to everyone. I was a successful detective for a reason.” She reached for the orange juice, the morning sun hitting her thick, long hair as she leaned forward.
Shana hadn’t needed to scrape her locks into a messy bun this morning.
“I was so sure when I broke things off with him it was the right thing to do.” Naomi touched her own topknot, which was full of tangles from sleeping with her hair wet. Or moving restlessly in the night because of her dreams. “I know I should let him go, but it doesn’t feel right anymore. Part of me wants a second chance.”
Though she still needed to determine Chuck’s and his family’s motives businesswise, Naomi found herself at ease with Shana on this subject, at least. Walls and pretenses were evaporating. The woman was becoming more than just a step-in-law. She was becoming a friend.
“That’s not a question I can answer for you.” Shana eyed her over the glass of juice.
“You’re married. You’ve worked through hard times.” Naomi wondered if she’d overstepped, but Shana and Chuck’s marital troubles hadn’t been a secret.
“I wouldn’t say we’ve worked through them.” The leggy blonde swept a lock of hair off her forehead before settling into the chair. “More like we’ve worked on them.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” So much for Naomi’s plan to find out more about the Mikkelson family business.
Laughing, Shana waved aside her concern. “We’re family now, in a roundabout way. Step-in-laws.”
Naomi welcomed the release of a laugh after the tension of the morning with Royce. “I was just thinking the same thing. I look forward to getting to know everyone better.”
“Do you trust him?”
Startled at the question, Naomi looked up sharply. Shana couldn’t have read her mind about Chuck and the other Mikkelsons, could she?
Oh... Realization dawned. Shana meant did Naomi trust Royce. “Yes, I do.”
And damn, but that took the wind right out of her sails. She didn’t trust life to be kind to her, or to last. But the people in her world? They hadn’t done anything like Shana’s father had to her.
Naomi thought back to all Chuck had shared about his wife’s past. The pain in Shana’s eyes was tangible. Naomi squeezed her hand and an understanding passed between them, a sense that Shana could tell Naomi knew about the woman’s father somehow.
Shana squeezed back. “A good, honest man that you can truly trust is worth giving a second chance.”
The truth resonated. The stakes were so high with Naomi’s children. Royce was digging in deep to make his mark with the company for years to come—although he didn’t know about Chuck’s numbers.
If he stayed with the company long term and Naomi and he crossed paths, this could make their relationship all the more tense. As if things weren’t difficult enough to sift through.
Would Royce blame her for the failed number crunch?
Did he trust her?
Her heart hammered in her chest, the sound so loud it filled her ears. She still wanted him in spite of their problems and all the unresolved questions.
One way or another, she had to use these ne
xt weeks together before the gala to find out how much of a chance she could afford to give him, because she feared another breakup would destroy them both.
Eight
Milla had breached the inner circle.
Well, at least superficially.
She’d been invited to a movie viewing in the plush screening room at the Mikkelson compound. Only a select few employees had been invited. She wasn’t sure what had landed her on the list, but here she was.
Sconces on the wall reflected light in the shape of hourglasses. Subdued. Understated. And yet Milla recognized the luxury of the Mikkelsons’ home theater.
No amount of low lighting could camouflage or downplay the rows of plush leather reclining seats that had built-in massage options. Never mind the grand hallway she’d walked through to arrive at the media room. The rich scent of mahogany paneling filled the air.
What must it be like to live here? Milla wondered, swirling the pinot noir in her glass.
She took a moment to appreciate her ability to move so seamlessly into this family’s world. An infiltration James Bond would be proud of. Her success tonight was as tangible as the heavy plate of hors d’oeuvres she clutched in her due-for-a-manicure fingers.
As she noticed the flaking polish, she clenched her free hand into a fist, hiding her nails. Somehow fearing that the ragged edges of her hard-fought veneer would reveal her intentions to the whole room.
Milla shoved the thought down with a swig of wine. She needed this opportunity to get to know the key players better, in a more informal setting.
Leaning against the maroon wall, she surveyed the media room. Tried to take it all in. Note the family dynamics in this relaxed space. She smiled at two employees from the office who passed her to take seats in the front row.
Chuck and Shana Mikkelson sat side by side without touching. Something like ice seemed to settle in the space between them. The contrast was stark, given how Broderick’s arm was around Glenna as his wife leaned her head on his shoulder.
Younger siblings, Aiden Steele and Alayna Mikkelson, whispered and laughed in the corner. Likely teenage stuff such as social media gossip, given their death grips on their devices.
Half a dozen other employees sprinkled throughout were eating gourmet popcorn and sipping cocktails.
And in the back, Delaney Steele and Birch Montoya. Why did everyone else buy their enemies act? Sure, they were on opposite sides of the environmental spectrum, but clearly, they were having a secret affair. The tension between them was so combustible Milla wouldn’t have been surprised to see it light up the dark screening room.
They were all so wrapped up in their own worlds, their smaller circles that kept them from seeing outside to the larger picture.
She had to see it all. To absorb every morsel of information she could glean. Because someone here had betrayed her adoptive family in Canada. She owed her family everything—and that included seeing justice served.
Milla stacked her plate on a side table with the others, then moved toward the middle of a row. Settling into a seat there, she lifted her wineglass, hoping to seem as nonchalant as possible as she discreetly tuned into nearby, whispered conversations taking place before Cyber Ghost started.
Yet another mark of wealth she could not fully understand. The Mikkelsons were able to debut the film here—an exclusive showing of a feature simultaneously debuting in theaters tomorrow.
Aiden passed to take his seat, his popcorn box right at nose level so she couldn’t miss the scent. From the aroma, it seemed a mixture of cheddar and...maple. Yes. Maple syrup.
Images of her adoptive family flooded her. Of warm breakfasts in a tiny, sterile room. Pancakes... The memories threatened to consume her. They might have succeeded, too, if not for the tall presence of Conrad Steele settling into a seat beside her.
Suddenly, she became hyperaware of the here and now.
Conrad was making the rounds in place of his older brother, Jack, who was still on his extended honeymoon. Conrad smiled, his blue-gray eyes searching hers as if he was trying to understand some essential truth about her in the minutes before the screening began.
He cleared his throat, leaning toward her, his elbows resting on his jeans-clad thighs. In a low voice that made her think of wind blowing through brush, he asked, “How are you liking working for the company? Is everybody treating you well?”
Milla tightened her grip on the stem of her leaded crystal glass. “Everyone’s been very welcoming. Thank you for asking.”
“It’s a time of change,” he said, leaning back in the chair, leather creaking, “which makes it all the tougher as a newcomer on staff.”
Conrad lazily scratched his head, that smile still playing on his lips, crinkling the skin beside his eyes.
“Others are new, too.” And she could get lost in the sea of new faces. Especially if she didn’t make waves.
“I can see how that would offer more opportunities for friendships.”
“Of course.” Was he hitting on her? Sure, he was cute in a middle-aged kind of way. But still. Eww.
“Sage Hammond is about your age. She’s good people. Reach out to her if you need anything.”
Milla relaxed in the theater seat, relieved that she wouldn’t have to rebuff a major Steele player. Yes, Conrad had his own corporate interests, but he was still the younger brother of Jack Steele and a significant stockholder in his own right. He’d even assisted Jack on occasion before the younger Steeles were old enough to help their father in the company.
In spite of his easygoing manner, Conrad Steele was not to be dismissed lightly.
The older man eyed his drained snifter. “Hmm, my drink’s empty. Good to talk to you, and again, welcome.”
Milla studied him as he walked away, wondering what secrets were hidden in his brain. He played the part so well, being half in, half out of this world. Like he was playing the odds, so he had a stake in a winning side either way.
How deep did his secret agendas go? And was anyone else in his family involved?
* * *
As the sun refracted on the fresh snow, Royce inhaled the cold air and awakened his insides with the bracing Alaskan atmosphere. The cool morning breeze raked across his cheeks as he sauntered forward. Everything felt crisper with Naomi around, sending his senses into hyperdrive.
She walked nearby as he pulled the babies in a stroller-style sleigh. Tessie bounded in the snow ahead, kicking up mini flurries.
It should have been a contented, peaceful kind of outing with Naomi. But the frustrated attraction between them sizzled so tangibly he wouldn’t be surprised if the icicles started melting off the trees.
Cricking his neck from side to side, he tamped down the passion flaring to life inside him—or at least he tried to. The walk would be over soon. His willpower wouldn’t have to be tested too long. Sunshine was brief in the winter. The baby sleigh made clean slices through the drifts as they walked alongside the bay. Having Naomi and the girls with him made the time bittersweet. He wanted to stretch out this outing—having her all to himself—as long as possible.
Restraint be damned.
He turned his head toward her, and her gaze collided with his. Some of his desire must have shown in his face because her pupils widened with awareness. She bit her bottom lip, then released it slowly.
With a brief shake of her head, she backed away. The answering heat in her eyes was disguised with something else.
She’d put a wall between them. A wary one.
Naomi reached down, balling up snow in her gloved palm. Brunette hair fell, long and lovely, on her chest as she turned to him. An overbright smile played on pink lips that matched the pink in her cheeks. God, he wanted to kiss her mouth, stroke her face.
She packed the snowball between her gloved hands. “It’s wonderful to be out here. I feel like I’ve been inside forever
. Thank you for suggesting this.”
Wind whipped, gusting her turquoise-and-feather earrings across her face. Ethereal and eclectic, Naomi floored him. Always. A life with her could never be boring. Royce swallowed hard.
“Wish I could claim unselfish motives in suggesting the walk. I’m enjoying the solitude.” As if that were the only selfish motivation at play. He wanted time alone with her, away from all her relatives. His gaze raked over her again.
“Are we encroaching on your solitude?” She let the snowball fall from her hand. Her cautious question cut through him deeper than the wind. Time to shift away from controversial topics if he wanted a chance at another kiss. Thank goodness the twins were cooperating by sleeping in the sleigh.
“Not at all. This is what I wanted.” The walk, the time with Naomi and the girls, with Tessie bounding through the snow.
“What you wanted for yourself was good for me, too. And the girls. There’s nothing selfish about that.” She held back a low hanging branch for Royce so he could pass through with the sleigh. A whiff of her perfume carried on the crisp breeze.
The brightness of the sun reflected in her eyes, distracting. Too much so. He nodded with a noncommittal grunt.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” His boots crunched in the snow.
“I know you better than that.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, her eyes twinkling knowingly.
The muscles in his arm twitched in response to her touch. “Only trying to figure out how I could think that your love of the outdoors was enough to bind us. Well, that and an off-the-charts sex life.”
There it was.
That awkward, weighted silence settled again in the air between them. A silence he felt in his chest and bones. A silence as cool as the northern wind sweeping across them.
He sighed hard, pressing on. Eyes catching on the horizon, where horses and riders gathered. The Mikkelsons and Steeles were making the most of the weekend. So much for solitude. One horse and rider descended in a headlong gallop. Royce couldn’t help but watch the way the hooves of the horse seemed to glide across the snow like butter. Naomi let out a pained laugh. “Would you rather be riding? You don’t have to stay glued to my side.”
The Twin Birthright Page 9